


Could be Worse

by twii2ted_8333335



Series: Prostitute Stan AU [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crying, First Time Blow Jobs, Homesickness, M/M, No Sex, Prostitution, Sad Ending, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tensed as he sat in the passenger seat of the stranger's car. His heart pounded harshly in his chest and it didn't slow when a hand was placed on his thigh. God, even he usually had two hands on the wheel while driving. They were gonna crash at this rate, even if they weren't moving all that fast. </p><p>Maybe that would be better. Then Stan wouldn't be forced to do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could be Worse

**Author's Note:**

> So I tried my hand at prostitute!Stan in this one  
> And I don’t think I did too bad? I kinda wish I was better at writing angsty things and I don’t know how prostitution works especially back in these times but hey, I did try  
> Not really a pairing and there’s no actual sex involved. Just a tired kid who ends up missing his family a little.

He tensed as he sat in the passenger seat of the stranger's car. His heart pounded harshly in his chest and it didn't slow when a hand was placed on his thigh. God, even he usually had two hands on the wheel while driving. They were gonna crash at this rate, even if they weren't moving all that fast. 

Maybe that would be better. Then Stan wouldn't be forced to do this. 

It was almost funny. He actually hadn't thought of this plan. He'd been standing on a street corner, rubbing his hands together and trying to find his way around the new town. It was cold, late and he was nearing exhaustion but he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to fall asleep anywhere too risky. The car pulled up to him and the window was rolled down and the first words out of this guy's mouth was, "How much?" 

It took him a minute to catch on. He almost, _almost_ , explained that he wasn't offering, but he hesitated instead. He gave the guy a once over, then the car too. Not too wealthy but not poor either. He looked pretty well off. And with the way he was leering at Stan, he figured he could get away with bleeding him a little dry. 

He named his price, then almost immediately upped it. The guy didn't seem to mind. What a desperate dumbass.

His stomach churned. _Look who's talking_. 

The passenger door opened to him, and there he sat, face red from the cold and body numb. 

At least it was warm.

There was a chuckle beside him and the hand on his leg gave him a squeeze. Stan bit his lip. "It's going to get much warmer later." Christ, had he said that out loud? He chewed at his lip now, making sure he was fully aware of what it was doing. There was no way he was going to let another slip like that happen. He'd gotten lucky that time. 

They pulled into the driveway of a pretty decent house, a lot farther from Stan's corner — he really shouldn't call it that — than he would've liked. A house like this, a guy like this, there had to be a wife, maybe a kid. What on Earth was he doing here? He was potentially ruining a family.

He was about to back out of this whole situation when a few bills made their way into his hand. Stan looked up at the stranger, blinking in confusion. "Half now, half when you're done," he explained with so much patience that Stan could barely believe he was real. 

Right. Money. 

What was stopping him from just taking the guy's wallet though? He could still throw a good punch. One, two hits maximum could knock this guy out of commission. He could take the money, maybe grab a few trinkets from the house — 

He'd have to skip out of town again. He just got here. He could afford that, even if he did steal a little. He couldn't waste a perfectly good town away like that. And this guy had been so nice to him so far, he actually felt a little sick at the thought of robbing him. 

Eventually, Stan counted the money. Thirty dollars. Half of what they'd agreed. He nodded, pocketed the bills, then left the car. His — _companion? No. Saying stranger still ain't right. Customer? That sounds better._ — customer led him inside the house, offering to take his coat, which Stan quietly declined. He was being really kind, all things considered. Maybe he could tell Stan was nervous? Maybe he was just that kind of guy? 

_It could be worse._

For some reason, that stuck with him. It could be a lot worse. He could've been picked up a rougher guy, one who didn't cup his cheeks when they finally kissed, one who would've shoved his tongue in Stan's mouth instead of coaxing his lips open. One who would've taken him right against one of the walls instead of taking him upstairs and letting him get comfortable on the bed. 

Stan nearly fell asleep laying on that bed. Even as he was undressing himself, trying to at least pretend he knew how to look good doing it, his limbs felt heavy and his eyelids drooped and maybe the tired look was helping the situation? He couldn't wrap his head around how it would but hey, anything to keep the mood going as good as it was. _It could be worse,_ his thoughts echoed to him again. 

Warm hands ran along his body when he was finally completely exposed. A full body shudder rippled across him as soft fingers toyed with his nipples. The guy was murmuring above him, something about how cute Stan was, flushed red and willing. He spoke even when he used his lips in place of his hands, tongue rolling over Stan's nipples, trailing down, down, down —

"Wa-wait." His customer stilled, breath hot and heavy against Stan's forming erection. Stan's face lit up when he felt it twitch, subconsciously trying to curl in on himself, to hide himself. "Shouldn't — shouldn't I be-be doing that to you? I-I mean you're the one who's paying for all of-all of this, so — "

The man chuckled softly, dragging the flat of his tongue along the underside of Stan's cock, grinning as he shivered under his touch, falling back on the bed, lips parted as he exhaled sharply.

"You're right about one thing: I'm paying for all this. And, well, you aren't exactly complaining. If it's what I want and you're fine with it, why stop?" 

Stan cried out as soft lips wrapped around the head of his cock and _sucked_. His fingers, trembling and nervous, clutched at the sheets under him, and his hips pushed up towards the other's mouth. A hand pressed against his hip, not forcing him down but urging him to stay still as more and more of his stiff cock was enveloped in heat. Stan could hear himself panting and groaning, could feel himself throbbing on the other's tongue. 

He wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex once before but this was nothing compared to that. This was better than two teenagers fumbling around in the backseat of his car. This was experienced and more concentrated pleasure and he wasn't going to last long if this guy kept rolling his tongue over that spot under the head of his dick. 

He bit back a whine as the stimulus stopped and he felt a breathy chuckle against the side of his member. 

"Getting close?"

"U-uh-huh." 

"What was that?"

"Y-yes, I'm — I'm close, really close." 

Stan shuddered as he was licked from base to leaking tip. "Want me to finish you off?"

"Yes!" He swallowed, trying not to sound quite so desperate when he spoke again, "Yes, please, please, _please_ , I want to-to come." He mentally berated himself for sounding even more desperate than before, but his customer seemed to enjoy it.

"And what will I get in return?" Stan's hips jolted as that tongue dragged over his slit and he throbbed again, his toes curling a little. He couldn't hold on anymore. 

"Anything! Anything, I'll do anything you want, just _please_ make me come, I can't — _ahh!_ " He broke off into a moan as he sunk back into that mouth, fell back into that loop of almost over stimulating pleasure. Stan was faintly aware of the obscene sucking and slurping sounds of his customer's mouth as he finished him off and then there was nothing but white hot bliss. 

When he regained some semblance of consciousness, he was dressed again, his head snugly on a pillow and the covers pulled up to his shoulders. He heard a familiar chuckle and felt hands stroking his hair gently. 

"You're awake now." Stan gave a small, affirming noise. "You were practically snoring as soon as you got off." Another light laugh had Stan blushing horribly and sitting up immediately. 

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't even realize — " 

He was shushed softly, "Don't worry about it. I can tell you're new to the game — " Stan flinched at that. He knew he was obvious but it hurt to hear all the same. " — so I'll let you off easy. I'll still pay you in full and I'll even send a few people your way. People like me, locked in a marriage they didn't want with a... person they aren't entirely attracted to." 

Stan wasn't sure what to say to that. Any of it. He really didn't want to do this again, especially if people began expecting sex from him or a returned favor. He wouldn't always get away with lying down and looking pretty, he knew that. 

But he _did_ need the money and if he got a few regulars, guys who knew him, knew his limits, knew how to handle him — maybe he could make this work. He could spin some prices, get his name out, dress up a little nicer. Oh man, he could really do this. 

His stomach churned again as his customer paid him the rest of his money. 

"You need a ride back to where I found you?"

Stan shook his head, "No, it's fine. I could use a walk anyway." 

There was a nod in response but that was it.

They didn't say goodbye. He was pointed in a general direction to go once he left the house and once he'd grabbed his jacket, Stan was gone. Walking. Trying to process what this new life meant for him. 

When he was finally in his car again, safe as he could be and quickly warming again from the cool outside air, his thoughts drifted to his family. His father would hardly approve, would probably actually disown him this time, and though his mother would be upset, if he told her when he was practically an expert, when he could fake the scared, virgin look, he imagined she'd be able to give him a smile. Joke about the trouble he could get in with customers if he mastered the tricks of the trade. "It's all in the tone of voice," he pictured her saying, "You wanna sell a lie? It's all in the tone." She would know.

He thought of his brother and the smile he'd felt forming dropped again. He remembered the hurt look he'd seen through their bedroom window. Stan curled in on himself, held tightly onto his arms as he buried his face in his knees. 

Ford wouldn't want him to do this. He'd be terrified, probably worried about diseases and sanitation and yeah, Stan was worried too, but he couldn't think about that. He was out of ideas for sales, out of aliases to sell them under and he was out of money. He had no choice. 

For the first time in a while, Stan actually cried as he sat there in his car and accepted that this was his life now. 

_It could be worse._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sorry 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Okay maybe a little


End file.
